


On Behavior

by devotchka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Fingerfucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25387006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devotchka/pseuds/devotchka
Summary: Prompto lives for things like closeness and touch. He’d never thought that words could come close before. Then Gladio called him a good boy, and now he’s finding out just how abundantly wrong he was.Or, Prompto has a praise kink, and Gladio indulges it.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum
Comments: 5
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, Prompto still can’t believe that this is a thing he does.

He’s pinned beneath Gladio’s weight, completely naked, three of his own fingers buried inside of himself. He’s breathing hard, and Gladio’s mouth presses warm and rough at his throat as he gets himself off.

Prompto thinks that he’s never been particularly bold. He’s never made a habit of reaching out and taking what he wants. Somehow, he wound up with Gladio anyway – doing this, revealing himself so completely, still being wanted despite it all.

He’s impatient. He can hear Gladio panting against his neck; he can feel how hard he is against his leg. Fucking himself on his own fingers just doesn’t compare to what he _could_ be doing. Watching Gladio lose his composure over this – just sound and need and simple touch – reaffirms his belief.

He’d give anything for more contact – any way Gladio wants it.

His hips grind up into the unforgiving fabric of Gladio’s pants, his cock brushing up against his leg, and it’s not enough. He’s burning up inside, frustrated with foreplay.

“Touch me.” He finally says, “Please. Anything. I just want it to be you.”

“Yeah?” Gladio replies.

He’s grabbing at Prompto’s wrist, helping guide his fingers out, and Prompto assumes this means he’s going to get what he wants. “ _Please_.” He begs either way.

He’s panting as his fingers are replaced by Gladio’s, as Gladio touches him there, his fingers threatening to push in at any second. He wiggles his hips. He wants to grind down into Gladio’s touch.

“You’re such a good boy, Prompto.” Gladio says, and he finally begins to push two fingers into him.

A moan escapes Prompto’s throat before he can even think about what’s happening. Gladio’s fingers are bigger than his own, wider, filling him up and giving him that contact he so desperately needed. But there’s something else.

A good boy, he thinks. That’s what Gladio just called him. It hits Prompto with so many emotions at once that he can barely separate them from one another.

Gladio rams into that delicate, sensitive spot that forces moans from him, and he spreads his legs further, inviting.

Prompto is proud to have earned that response from him – to be _good_ \-- and a little confused by how sexual that pride feels. He’s embarrassed that such a simple phrase is dragging him into such a submissive place.

Mostly, as Gladio leaves hickies along his neck and heat pooling in his center, his fingers pressing deep as he adds a third, Prompto just feels aroused. Obscenely aroused, more so than he’s been in a long time.

He’s already panting, his hips rolling into Gladio’s hand, his short nails digging into Gladio’s back as he seeks out any kind of contact he can get. Gladio feels firm and broad beneath his touch, and Prompto practically trembles with anticipation.

He wonders what he would have to do to hear those words again.

“I love the way you sound right now.” Gladio says, and it’s close enough to _good boy_ that it does things to him.

He wonders just what it is about himself that makes praise suddenly feel so arousing, and decides that he doesn’t care. He moans again. His back arches. He feels like he’s going to come from just simple foreplay.

He doesn’t want to, not yet.

“Please,” he replies. “I’m so close.”

“What do you need?”

Prompto is already sure that he knows. It’s not a problem. He wants to be obedient, wants to make Gladio happy.

Gladio’s fingers are still working, pushing deep and insistent, and Prompto can’t take it. He feels himself clamping down tight around them. He feels their every motion as they press at his most sensitive spots, pulling him apart in that way only Gladio can. “Fuck me.”

“Good boy.”

His breath hitches. Gladio finally slows his pace, gently pulling his fingers out and then replacing them with the tip of his cock, and Prompto spreads his legs a bit further. He waits as Gladio lines himself up; he bites back some needy sound at the feel of it brushing up against him, promising. He moans Gladio’s name.

It feels like praise, again, feeling Gladio push into him. He relaxes into it. He lets Gladio take from him, forcing his way into his body inch by inch, filling him to the brink of pain.

They don’t make time for adjustments. It makes Prompto wonder if Gladio is just as worked up as he is.

“You feel so good.” Gladio breathes, and then he’s leaning forward, claiming his mouth.

Prompto’s legs wrap around Gladio’s waist, keeping him pulled in close, and his hands move to cup his face. He parts his lips for Gladio’s tongue, another moan dying in his throat as Gladio thrusts into him with quick, selfish motions.

_Tell me how good I am_ , he wants to say, but he’s caught up in kissing and feeling and the words never come.

He thinks that this is close enough, anyway. Every touch, like Gladio could never grow tired of him, feels like praise. Every sound that he forces out of him feels like praise. These are things that only Prompto hears from him – that only _he_ can do.

“I love you.” He gasps in between kisses. Gladio wraps an arm around his back, pulling him in even closer, pressing him up against his chest. “I love you.”

He’s always known that Gladio truly wants him in moments like this. Physicality is one of the easiest ways to express it, and Prompto lives for things like closeness and touch. He’d never thought that words could come close before. Then Gladio called him a good boy, and now he’s finding out that he was abundantly wrong.

He gets lost in the praise; in being told how well he takes it as Gladio holds him tight and bottoms out in him over and over; in being told how gorgeous he looks like this and how nice he feels inside.

He’s never been so eager to please in his life.

Suddenly a pace that’s meant to be selfish still feels incredibly good, and every careless thrust into him sends tight, heavy waves of pleasure crashing through his body, and he knows that he isn’t going to be able to hold out for long.

His orgasm hits him hard and sudden, and the first thing he does is bury his face in the curve of Gladio’s shoulder, muffling his sounds. He’s trembling and overwhelmed.

Gladio’s fingers lace through his hair. His pace stays relentless, and he fucks him through it until he’s overstimulated, until he can’t take it anymore, until he’s shaking and sobbing and coming a second time.

“You’re such a good boy, Prompto. You’re so good for me.”

He hears it again as he’s coming, just past his own noises, past his frantic moans and abject begging. And then again when it’s all over, when Gladio’s holding him in his arms and rubbing his back, when overwhelming pleasure gives way to overwhelming fatigue.

The memory lingers long after the bruises fade.


	2. Chapter 2

If there’s one thing in life that Prompto knows he can count on, it’s his insomnia.

It comes naturally – like gravity, or like breathing – so startling awake on the road trip should not hit him as the surprise that it does. He wakes up with a gasp and a jolt, and he would’ve shot right out of bed if it hadn’t been for Gladio’s arms wrapped so tightly around him.

His eyes open. Despite the lack of visibility, he looks around at the vast nothingness, barely making out shapes in the dark. Somewhere across the room he hears the air conditioner hum to life. He tips his head back against Gladio’s shoulder and sighs.

Behind him, Gladio makes a noise like he’s waking up, too.

“Prompto,” Gladio murmurs, his voice heavy with sleep. “You okay?”

Prompto nods.

They try to go back to sleep. Prompto stays awake, pressed up against Gladio’s chest. He takes in the warmth and the solidity. He tries to let it soothe him back to sleep. He shifts his weight, and Gladio’s arm wraps around his waist, pulling him back in as the little spoon.

Prompto thinks for a little while that this position will work. He even feels tired for a bit, and then he’s wide awake and moving around again, and his ass is brushing up against Gladio’s half hard cock.

He can’t help the response it drags up. Sexuality always gets to him – always makes him feel valid and wanted and out of his own head, and the promise of it does the same. He shifts a little against Gladio’s cock. His skin flushes, and he can feel his heart beating harder in his chest.

Gladio sighs and tugs Prompto closer, pulling his hips in, and Prompto melts into this unexpected turn of events. He rocks his hips a little, and he feels Gladio’s cock twitch beneath him.

“Gladio?” He whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I want you.”

That’s all it takes. Gladio responds with physicality, leaning in over him, his mouth finding the curve of Prompto’s neck. He tugs him close and presses his ass flush with his cock, and Prompto grinds into it, slow and insistent.

Prompto thinks about how _good_ it feels. Sex is the perfect distraction; not only will it make him forget about startling awake, it’ll even wear him out.

Gladio’s hips continue to rock into him, and Prompto realizes that he’s panting from just this, that they both are.

“You want it?” Gladio asks, and all Prompto can do is nod yes as Gladio’s hands work at the front of his jeans, tugging them down past his ass. A second later he’s pressing his bare cock up against him, skin on skin, and Prompto moans. “You’re gonna have to beg me.”

It’s easy. It’s natural. Maybe if it were someone else Prompto might feel ashamed for falling apart so quickly, but with Gladio he can’t.

“Fuck me.” He says, and it flies out of his mouth effortlessly. His hips roll, his ass rubbing up against Gladio’s bare cock as he begs, inviting. “Please, Gladio, please, _please_ , I want it so bad –”

“Good boy.” Gladio replies, then, “I’ll take care of you.”

Prompto knows he means it. He waits as Gladio spreads him open, the tip of his cock brushing up against his hole before slowly, gently beginning to push inside.

“ _Gladio_.” Prompto moans. The first few inches shove into him, stretching him wide. He arches into Gladio’s touch, his head falling back against Gladio’s shoulder as he adjusts to being filled so roughly.

“There you go.” Gladio breathes against the curve of Prompto’s neck. “You take it so well.”

The praise hits something deep in him – something needy and longing. He wonders what he would have to do to hear more of it.

Gladio grabs his leg, lifting it for leverage, and the new angle his even deeper, ramming into his prostate.

Prompto’s hips roll back into Gladio’s thrusts.

“My good boy.” Gladio breathes, and Prompto can’t help it. He comes right then and there, over just this, just simple praise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another oneshot collection! My specialty.


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